Ridgewood
by 2BlckBlt
Summary: A Day With House in Drug Rehab
1. Chapter 1

"Good morning Dr. House. And how are we doing this lovely morning?"

"**We** are not doing anything. And it is a lousy morning. No Vicodin equals a lousy morning."

"Well, it is time to hit the showers, breakfast is in thirty minutes."

_Got to love the mandated schedule. Wakeup call at seven. Shower at seven thirty. Breakfast at eight. Group at nine. And the best? Art therapy at ten! How old am I? seven? Try approaching fifty you idiots! After that? Journaling! I am not a teenage girl! Never was actually. Then comes the fun part, individual therapy. I love messing with that doctor's head; she never knows what hit her._

"Yes ma'am, sergeant sir!"

House strolled in to the dinning hall ten minutes late just to annoy the hell out of the staff at Ridgewood Rehabilitation Center. He had been deliberately flaunting a disregard for the rules whenever possible ever since his arrival three days before.

"House! You're late! That's twice since you've been here. And that's just for meals. You've been late to group therapy once and individual twice. That means no television access for twenty-four hours.

_Shit! No General Hospital! What about Passions and Desperate Housewives? How will I get my fix of Eva Longoria? She's hot!"_

"I can do that standing on my head," House bluffed.

"Fine. Make it forty-eight."

_Dammit._

"Sir, yes sir!" and House mocked him with a salute.

The man in charge of House's group gave him an icy glare. It could have melted glaciers from one hundred miles away.

House sat down at the breakfast table and began to stir up more trouble.

"My eggs are too cold."

"You were late. What do you expect?"

"My coffee is too hot; Cameron makes better coffee."

"House, sit it and shut it. Eat your breakfast and stop complaining."

House sat down but didn't shut up.

"Hey John," he called to one of the guys in his therapy group, "I think you have something coming out of your nose. It is green and slimy looking."

_Hey I have to amuse myself somehow. _

After having been threatened to have no phone privileges as well, House finally behaved for the rest of breakfast. And was soon on his was to group therapy which was a whole other adventure.

"So Dr. House, are you ready to talk about what brought you to Ridgewood today?" The doctor who asked was a slight Asian woman, Dr. Amanda Jung. House found her perpetual cheeriness annoying and always had the urge to trip her with his cane.

"I like Vicodin."

"Do you have a problem with it?"

"No, I just told you I like it."

_I am going to make her job as difficult as possible. If I am stuck here I may as well have some fun._

"No, Dr. House, what I meant was do you have an addiction to Vicodin?"

"I can swallow it dry. I've practiced."

"That must mean you've taken an awful lot of them."

"Maybe I have. But I still was the best doctor at Princeton-Plainsboro. Ask my boss. She is easy to spot. The one with the low cut shirt."

"So you are a functioning addict?"

"I said I am an addict? I don't remember saying that. Are you trying to put words in my mouth, what is it? Dr. June?"

"Dr. Jung."

"Alright Dr. Jang, like I said, I like Vicodin. It makes my leg feel better. I have a bum leg if you haven't noticed the cane. Usually that's a dead give away."

Dr. Jung thought about correcting him again but decided against it, it was exactly what he was looking for. He wanted a reaction and she wasn't going to give him one. She decided that she would move on from House to the other patients in the session and let him simmer for now. He still had individual therapy to look forward to later.

_Ten o'clock, time for art therapy. Hmm…what can I draw to really mess with their heads? I know!_

House drew himself having a party with his Vicodin. The picture was complete with party hats, streamers, cake, and ice cream. He found it quite hilarious. The staff wasn't as amused. They wanted deep introspection and this clearly was not what they had in mind.

Art therapy ended by eleven and journaling began. The goal was to reflect on why you were there and how you were going to change. House didn't find those to be worthy uses of his time so he came up with lists instead, such as "101 Ways to Kill Wilson," or "Top Ten Ways to Tick Off Cuddy."

After art therapy came individual therapy, the highlight of House's day. It was an hour and a half to harass Dr. Jung as much as possible.

"Why hello Dr. Jane. So nice to see you again. I bet you have been looking forward to this all day. What? I am not the bright spot of your day? We'll have to work on that won't we."

"Actually I have been looking forward to this, I love a challenge. I saw the picture you drew earlier…"

"Great, wasn't it?"

"Not quite the word I'd use, but tell me why you drew it."

"Like I have been telling you, I like Vicodin. Why shouldn't I have a party with it? What? Are you going to go and psycho-analyze me and tell me that it is my mind screaming out that I am an addict and use my Vicodin to have fun?"

"I was thinking something along those lines, yes."

"Then it worked perfectly."

"What did?"

"All I was trying to do is mess with your head."

Dr. Jung was beginning to get exasperated and sighed an audible sigh.

House know he had accomplished his goal and that he could sit back and relax for the rest of the session, give a few short answers, dodge some questions, and he would be home free. The staff, however, was getting down right pissed off.


	2. Chapter 2

Alright, just so everyone is clear on the premise of this story, this is House in rehab as part of what I think the deal with Tritter will be. I am chronicling a day there. The first chapter was the morning; this chapter will be the afternoon. Got it? Good 

From Chapter One

"Like I have been telling you, I like Vicodin. Why shouldn't I have a party with it? What? Are you going to go and psycho-analyze me and tell me that it is my mind screaming out that I am an addict and use my Vicodin to have fun?"

"All I was trying to do is mess with your head."

Dr. Jung was beginning to get exasperated and sighed an audible sigh.

House know he had accomplished his goal and that he could sit back and relax for the rest of the session, give a few short answers, dodge some questions, and he would be home free. The staff, however, was getting down right pissed off.

One o'clock is lunch time at Ridgewood Rehabilitation Center, which for House meant another round of fun and games with his fellow inmates.

Lunch consisted of baked chicken, mashed potatoes, and canned pears, with a paper wrapped package of honey roasted peanuts for dessert. House proceeded to use his spoon as a sling shot and fire mashed potatoes at random staff members and then would put on his most innocent look.

_Bingo! Direct hit! Score one hundred points for me! If I hit the lunch lady across the room it will be worth five hundred points at least! And oh! Lets nail that dork with the wire rimmed glasses too._

House looked over at John, the guy he harassed at breakfast, planning on giving him a hard time again and when he saw him dump out the peanuts and stick the wrapper in his pocket.

"Werido," House said loud enough for him to hear.

After lunch House and company had an hour of free time and he found himself outside in the fenced in property with none other than John, when he went into what House recognized immediately as anaphylactic shock. When House approached him he saw a home made cigarette, made with the wrapper from lunch.

"We need a doctor!" House called.

The medical staff on call came running and took him to the in house medical center. They couldn't figure out what had happened though. John had indicated on his forms that he was a smoker so they knew a cigarette wouldn't have caused this. Knowing they had one of the top diagnosticians in the nation in residence they called him in for a consultation.

"He's allergic to peanuts." It took House thirty seconds to come up with this diagnoses.

"How do you know?"

"I saw him dump out the peanuts before he took the wrapper. What he didn't realize was that there would still be residue on the thing. Idiot."

"Thank-you Dr. House. You can go back to whatever you were doing now."

"Oh come on! I want to see you medical geniuses in action! Especially since you can't diagnose a simple food allergy. Should be a barrel of laughs. I loved that game going up. What was it? A Barrel of Monkeys? That's about as far up the evolutionary chain of doctors you guys are."

"Get out House. Now."

Having gotten his licks in House returned to his room to watch as many afternoon soaps as he could before he got caught and punished for breaking the rules, again.

Half an hour into All My Children a very young looking male nurse came by to do a check to see if he had any contraband, namely Vicodin. House immediately started in on him.

"Hmm…wedding band. Clearly that means you're still in the closet."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Um, male nurse alert! Or do you just dig the outfit?"

The nurse continued about is job in silence, secretly fuming that he had been outted by a man who had known him for seconds. He had never been happier to leave a patient's room in his life.

_Damn I'm good._

Pleased with himself House was in such a good mood, relatively speaking of course, that he almost didn't mind the fact that he was expected to go to an afternoon church service since there is a religious aspect to this rehabilitation center.

Midway through the service though he lost his cool when the woman sitting next to him began to say the Lord's Prayer randomly for the fifth time.

"Jesus woman! Will you shut up already?" House yelled this loud enough that everyone at the service could hear. The minister gave him a very dirty look then continued while pausing to glare at him every few minutes as if to keep him in line.

_Gotta love this place. So many people to piss off, so little time to do it._


	3. Chapter 3

For those of you trying to understand the progression of the story this is the evening now!

Also, many thanks to mishy-mo for her input into chapter two with House saving the day idea!

From Chapter 3:

Midway through the service though he lost his cool when the woman sitting next to him began to say the Lord's Prayer randomly for the fifth time.

"Jesus woman! Will you shut up already?" House yelled this loud enough that everyone at the service could hear. The minister gave him a very dirty look then continued while pausing to glare at him every few minutes as if to keep him in line.

_Gotta love this place. So many people to piss off, so little time to do it._

Dinner time was different for House than for other patients. House had to dine alone that night because of his earlier dining hall antics. That meant House had to have his dinner time fun when he went though the line to get his food before he went back to his room to eat under supervision.

The first lady he came across was serving spare ribs and was very thin, so thin in fact that because her shirt was very low you could count them if you paid close enough attention.

"Nice ribs!"

The woman looked down and the meat she was holding then up at House skeptically but said thank-you.

"No, not those, yours. You can see them quite easily, I am sure there all there, I can check for you if you want." Not waiting for a response House moved on to the man with dinner rolls.

This man was heavy set with chubby cheeks, so he quickly became a victim.

"Are the rolls good?"

"I don't know."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Looks like you might have a few stuffed in your cheeks." House laughed to himself and continued down the line to the last stop, a teenage girl serving cake for dessert.

"Hello. How are you to night" _She's cute. I will cut her a break._

"Like hi to you too!"

_Screw that. _

"I am like totally in need of sugar or whatever."

"Oh, I can so relate. I have this mid-term exam tomorrow in trigonometry…"

"Well, break a leg."

"That is what you tell someone before you go on stage! I don't want to break a leg!"

"You need to break a leg! You need the sympathy! You don't think you are going to pass the test on brain power alone do you? Now you do have the long golden blonde hair and blue eyes thing going for you so you never know."

Having triumphed over the kitchen staff House was agreeable about going up to his room. He had a plan as to how he would catch some TV over dinner too. He purposefully forgot to get a drink with dinner so he asked the poor attendant assigned to him to go get one for him. He knew they wouldn't let him back in the kitchen anytime soon after the fun he had just had. The plan worked perfectly.

_God, these people are truly idiots. I think I have seen clinic patients smarter then them. Especially the baby sending the rescue team up his nose to save the cat. Now there is a smart kid. Well, he would have been smarter not to put the cat up there in the first place, but we can't all be Einstein's before we are talking. _

House managed to catch about 15 minutes of soap returns on cable before an attendant came back. The person who came back wasn't the person who left though, it was the nurse from earlier, Kevin.

_Ka-ching! He is moronic enough to come back for more. Bad for him, good for me._

"So Kevin, meet any hot guys this afternoon? I hear you can win them over with snails and puppy dog tails. I wouldn't really know though, I like the sugar and spice with nothing nice type myself."

Kevin's face contorted into a glacial stare, directed at House. House wisely shut his mouth and the rest of dinner passed uneventfully.

At seven-thirty House really wanted Vicodin. His leg was killing him and he was feeling nauseous. The problem was, that unlike at Princeton-Plainsboro, no one here was afraid of him so he could not bully anyone in to giving it to him.

House had an idea though to make sure he was heard loud and clear. He decided to sneak down to the nurse's station where the public address system was, attach his ipod, and play the Rolling Stones, "Satisfaction." Only when "I can't get no satisfaction. I can't get no satisfaction. 'Cause I try, and I try, and I try, and I try. I can't get no, I can't get no…" was House happy.

That leaves us with the night left for next time. Goodnight guys!


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to thegreatbluespoon for their idea to have House have a visitor or two!

From Chapter Three:

At seven-thirty House really wanted Vicodin. His leg was killing him and he was feeling nauseous. The problem was, that unlike at Princeton-Plainsboro, no one here was afraid of him so he could not bully anyone in to giving it to him.

House had an idea though to make sure he was heard loud and clear. He decided to sneak down to the nurse's station where the public address system was, attach his ipod, and play the Rolling Stones, "Satisfaction." Only when "I can't get no satisfaction. I can't get no satisfaction. 'Cause I try, and I try, and I try, and I try. I can't get no, I can't get no…" was House happy.

Eight o'clock brought visiting hours at Ridgewood Rehabilitation Center and much to House's chagrin he had visitors. Seeing how House was asocial when on Vicodin, he was especially pissy towards his coworkers when feeling the effects of withdrawal. So in walked Cuddy, Wilson, and Cameron, the only one's brave enough to deal with what ever wrath House would inflict on them for showing up.

_Damn it! Should have known they'd come. Especially Cameron and Wilson. They are too nice not to, plus they feel guilty._

"Hello House," said Cuddy. She felt that as his boss she had already taken anything he was able to dish out.

"Why are you here Cuddy? And you Cameron? And Wilson? Well, I know why, you feel guilty. You know I don't belong here. I am able to outsmart this entire staff! Do you think that I'd be in any position to do that if I was a junkie going through withdrawal?"

"You've never been any thing but arrogant before, don't stop now."

"Come on Cuddy. I'm better than these losers. I treat guys like these in the clinic and then make fun of them behind their backs! Now you are treating me like one of them!"

"House, you don't get it, you have a problem. It almost cost me my practice, Cameron lost control of her finances for a while, and Cuddy's hospital was turned upside down! Your problem, it caused problems, big problems, for a lot of people."

"I don't have a problem. I paid my bills, I had a job, a very good one at that, I had an underling pining after me, I was doing pretty good."

"You were popping Vicodin like candy House!" This time it was Cameron who chimed in, choosing to ignore the underling comment. It was nothing that she hadn't heard in a million different ways before.

"Ohhh Dr. Cameron, that's where you are wrong, they are much better than candy. They make me feel better, without the calories! I have to keep my girlish figure you know!"

"That is why you have a problem," started Cuddy, "you take them to make you feel better. Not to make your leg feel better."

"What is the difference? As long as I am better, right?"

"Wrong. You were prescribed the pills for your leg, not so you could get high."

"But I am high on life! All the gorgeous girls asking me out does it for me!"

"What happened to your hookers House?" asked Wilson. He knew House didn't really hire hookers but wanted him to admit it.

"Don't need them anymore, I have Cameron now."

Cameron did take the bait she just ignored him, not even rolling her eyes or allowing a blush to creep up her cheeks.

"You don't have Cameron and you don't have hookers, I lived with you, remember? You have a problem."

"Yeah, his name is Wilson, and the problem has friends, Cuddy and Cameron."

"No, the problem you have is with Vicodin."

"You're right. I can't seem to get any here."

"That's a good thing."

"Not for you, Cameron and Cuddy. Because if I don't get some soon I am likely to loose what little patience I have left for this little visit."

"Alright, tell you what. If you admit you have a problem with Vicodin we'll leave and won't come back unless you ask us too."

"Fine. I have a problem with Vicodin. Goodbye now! Drive safe! Or not!"

House's visitors left and House was alone. His eyes started to tear when he realized for the first time that what he had just said was true.

_There is something about saying it out loud that makes it more true, more real. Damn it! How can I hide from it now? It is just there now. Staring me in the face. _

Then House began to cry, harder than he can ever remember doing.

The next day in individual therapy when Dr. Jung asked him if he had a problem with Vicodin, House had a different answer for her than what she was probably expecting.

"Yes."

That's all she wrote on this one guys! Thanks again to everyone for their support and to mishy-mo and thegreatbluespoon for their ideas!


End file.
